


Disconnected.

by SocialDeception



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Breath Control Play, Knifeplay, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Control, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:33:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDeception/pseuds/SocialDeception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon wonders what's wrong with him, walking so willingly into the lions den.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disconnected.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or the characters. The games would look a whole lot different if I did.
> 
> This was originally written as a sequel, writing smut about damaged sex is more fun than plot-things apparently...
> 
> I think it works as a stand-alone, and if I ever come around to finishing the original story, I hope the jumbled order will just lend an interesting dynamic to it all.

Silence.

That's the only thing welcoming him as Leon steps into the strange ruin made from pale sandstone, the only sound penetrating the silence is the sound of his own footsteps, too loud and at the same time not loud enough. The screaming and the sound of bullets proved to be a nice distraction from the hissing inside his own head.

Yet, there is something unnatural about this silence. At first it's just a slight tickle at the back of his neck, but as he makes his way into the structure it's like his skin is too tight for his skull.

He knows he should turn around. Knows this isn't right, yet he keeps going, licking his lips nervously as he moves from one corner to the next, staring into crumbling hallways and empty windows. A familiar feeling rising slowly in the pit of his stomach, and he _knows._ Knows that feeling all too well. He knows who's here, probably knew it going in here, knew it all along, deep down, that the flicking fires spread out in the area are lit by _him_. A greeting to him. A warning. A _promise_.

His nerves are stretched so thin he worries fleetingly if he'll make it there at all, but he moves forward, despite his instincts and better judgement.

A part of him wonders if he _wants_ this, if parts of him feeds off this fear, feeds off the knowledge that somewhere in this maze of crumbling stone there's someone waiting for him, both the last and the only person he'd want to meet.

He feels defeated. Already. Defeated and broken, almost to the point where he lowers the gun or drops it all together, but he doesn't, grinding his teeth as he scans the area.

He used to be so finely tuned to this man, so finely tuned he can still _feel_ him. Still feel the heat radiating from his body, somewhere in here, waiting for him.

There's a heaviness in his stomach, a slight nausea, part fear, part arousal, and he hates himself for it. Hates this inexplicable spell the other man holds over him.

 _I'll kill him this time._ The voice inside his head is a lot more confident than he feels, and that comforts him in some ways, even though he knows the voice is wrong.

He turns a corner and stops dead in his track. Pale moonlight flood through cracks in the wall, and pools in the middle of an empty room, and Leon just knows, _knows,_ that this is where he's meant to be.

Not in any romantic sense of the word. Not like fate. Not like love. But he still knows it's true, because of that deep sense of dread and longing that pulls at his stomach. So he stops. Closes his eyes. Waits for him, every inch of him filled with conflicting emotions, cursing himself for being so weak, tilting his head back as if awaiting his own execution, and maybe he is.

Leon doesn't have to wait long. He knows he's there despite the encompassing silence, even before that familiar whisper in his ear and the rough hands on his upper arms.

"Did ya miss me?"

And Leon knows he has, knows he'd do anything to be right here, and he hates admitting that, he _won't_ admit that. So he stays quiet, does nothing as harsh hands moves down to his wrists, pinning them on his back. A deceitful moan escape his lips as teeth find the sensitive area below his ear, and he surrenders, leaning back against the warmth of the man behind him, doesn't even fight as his gun is tossed aside, his harness removed and rough hands pull greedily on his shirt.

"Krauser..."

"I knew you'd come here." Krauser murmurs against his skin. "I knew you couldn't stay away." 

He grabs a fistful of Leon's hair, and yanks his head back and to the side, so he can bite down on his lips, muffling Leon's whimpers as he draws blood.

Leon's hands are still obediently behind his back, wrists pressed together as if he's wearing invisible handcuffs, and Krauser chuckles when he sees, pressing himself into Leon's hands, grinding against Leon's fingers.

"You're so obliging, aren't you?" he hisses, and Leon knows Krauser is smirking, knows that little change of tone, knows he's pleased with him, and that makes his body throb dully with arousal.

"Krauser, please..." Shame flushes his cheeks, but Krauser doesn't stop, instead pushing Leon over to the nearest wall, shoving his face into the crumbling wall.

Leon tries not to cough as he inhales the dust, knowing fully well what will happen if he does, instead desperately trying to stand still as Krauser undresses him.

"I've missed this body..." Krauser whispers, trailing his hands along Leon's back and digging his fingers into firm flesh until Leon whimpers again.

Krauser grabs his shoulders and turn him around, pushing him back in place, against the wall, assaulting his mouth again, licking the tiny droplets of blood from Leon's chin when they breathlessly pull apart.

They are face to face now, and Leon feels weak as they lock eyes, the scar across Krauser's lip twists his smile a little, making it seem like he's almost sneering.

Leon knows it suits him, just as he knows it wouldn't matter if it didn't.

Krauser's eyes trail over him, his smile widening a little when his fingers find the cold metal around Leon's neck. He left the dog tags when he disappeared, _when he died_ , left them casually on Leon's nightstand, and Leon put it around his neck, without question, without hesitation. He had worn it everyday since, even in the shower. Fingering it whenever he felt unsure, the coolness of the metal would clear his head for a little while.

It was his secret. His dirty little secret, and now it's out there, out there for Krauser to see. And that bastard is _smiling_ at it, smiling even though he probably knows what it means.

His fingers leave it, letting it fall back onto Leon's chest, and it's like a punch to the gut, but Leon stays quiet, shivering slightly as Krauser lets his finger move across his collarbone, up his throat, his jaw. Every part of him strung like wire, so tense he feels like glass and that a wrong move from Krauser will break him.

But Krauser does not make any wrong moves, not yet, tracing Leon's lips with his thumb before forcing it between his teeth, forcing him to lick and suck on it. It tastes of gunpowder and blood, but in a good way, it tastes like _him_ , exactly what he's wanted and needed, and he moans as Krauser plays with his tongue. Letting Krauser chase away the sadness and pain, letting him hold him together.

"Get on your knees" he commands hoarsely and Leon drops to his knees almost before he finishes the sentence, hanging his head low with shame as he does.

"Good, Leon..." Krauser purrs, grabbing his chin and forcing him to move forward on his knees, until his face is almost touching his crotch.

He doesn't have to say anything, Leon knows the drill. His fingers tremble as they reach for Krauser's belt, unclasping the metal, swallowing hard as he opens Krauser's zipper. He shoots a quick, nervous glance up at Krauser, shoulders slumping a bit when he sees Krauser's predatory grin, lowering his gaze, and carefully starts pulling Krauser's pants down.

"No. Leave them on."

Leon complies, hoisting his pants back up, before opening his fly completely, pulling his underwear down enough for Leon to get his hand in so he can pull out his throbbing member.

Krauser doesn't have to instruct him, doesn't have to guide his head, in the end he doesn't even have to move. Leon's fingers wrap around him and he starts licking the head carefully, softly. He does it on purpose, knowing fully well what happens when Krauser gets impatient. Wanting those harsh hands on his head.

It's like Krauser knows what's going on in his head, because he doesn't move, he doesn't even thrust against Leon's mouth, and Leon gets unsure, tightening his grip around Krauser's dick, allowing it to slide further into his mouth now, desperately wanting some kind of reaction from Krauser, but Krauser doesn't move. Even though he _knows_. Knows what that does to him.

Leon allows himself another quick glance, but Krauser's face is unreadable. His eyes are narrowed, but if it's from pleasure or anger Leon can't tell. It's like something inside him breaks. His fingers tremble, tears welling up in his eyes and he just wants to hurt Krauser then, claw at his face and _hurt_ him, make him scream, make him feel as tiny and small and insignificant as Leon does right now.

And the sick part is that he's still sucking Krauser's dick, despite his tears and hatred and confusion. He's trained like a damn dog, and it feels so wrong, so obscene, so fucking _sick._ He hates himself for it. He hates Krauser. Except he doesn't, and he knows it.

Krauser's knife is sheathed behind his back, like he always does. Broken, messed up Krauser, still so predictable, and Leon wonders then, could he grab it? Would he have time to slit his throat?

But that-

No.

_Krauser..._

"I thought you were dead" Leon sobs, words muffled from Krauser still in his mouth. "I thought you..."

_Left me..._

The words slip out against his will, but Krauser doesn't say anything. His erection hasn't even faltered. But finally. Those hands. _His_ hands. They bury in Leon's hair, just like he wanted, just like he needed. But it's not enough anymore, and he sobs again. Re-lives those awful moments when he thought Krauser had died, those breathless moments in his car, hitting the steering wheel so hard his knuckles bleed, the first time that  _thing_ in him broke. Forming again so it could break again. Over and over.

He wishes he could say he doesn't care, wish it was true, but it isn't. So he grabs Krauser, holds every part of him he can, holds on to him as if he's drowning, as if Krauser is the only safe haven, and maybe he is. Holds him desperately while pressing Krauser's dick as far down his throat as he can. Krauser still doesn't speak, just pets his hair. Like the dog he is. _I'm okay,_ it's like a broken record in his head, _I'm okay._

And he sucks Krauser's dick, letting his tongue swirl around the head like he knows he wants, Fans out his fingers so he can grab his balls so hard it makes his hand numb. Just like he enjoys. And he's awarded a grunt from Krauser. A slight movement of his hips as he thrusts against his mouth, the fingers burrowing deeper in his hair, and it's true now. _I'm okay._

This is what he wants, what he _needs_ and his shoulders slump as he realizes how depraved the whole thing is. But it's all just so blissfully perfect. The roughness of Krauser's camo, that familiar smell of him, even the fucking _dust_ twirling around them in the icy moonlight. It's like some twisted romantic fantasy and his heart swells.

He hates it. Despises it. _Needs_ it. Needs Krauser to want him. To _need_ him. Even if it's just for this.

Even if he's just a mouth, a hand, an ass. Even if he's just _holes._

There were times when he had his affection. When Krauser's eyes would go soft when they met his. Another pained glance up at Krauser, and Krauser is looking at him still, probably seeing straight through him. His eyes the same, but so different. There were times... Times when the light would be soft, warm morning light on their faces, before Krauser turned cold and _wrong_. So fucking wrong. Leon just wants to surrender. Or has he already? He can't tell.

Krauser doesn't warn him as he's coming, but Leon knows, because he's been here before. He recognizes the shift in his breathing, the almost inaudible grunts, and the jagged thrusts against his mouth.

So when he comes in his mouth, Leon is prepared, swallowing every drop. So obedient. Just what Krauser wants him to be. Krauser grips his head, holds it steady, a groan escaping his lips, sounding almost like a growl, shuddering against Leon's mouth. Leon looks up at him through his eyelashes, the way he knows Krauser likes. Forcing his eyes to stay open and locked in his, trying not to cry.

They stay like that for a moment. And for a little while it's like the world has stopped rotating. The dust hangs suspended in the air, the moonlight so sharply defined it's like they could walk on them.

And it's quiet. So quiet. Not wrong, like before. This is something new, like being together again has somehow messed with time.

And for a little while Leon is satisfied. For a while it's okay. He feels so close to Krauser, still grasping at his pants, gripping fabric and hard muscle, pressing his head against those wonderful hands. Krauser's eyes are closed, his eyelids fluttering, and Leon finds himself disappearing again, being jealous of whatever goes on behind them. Then he's interrupted by a calloused hand moving from Leon's hair to his cheek, and everything is good again. Leon grabs it desperately, heart fluttering in his chest as they lace their fingers together. _I'm okay..._

Leon closes his eyes too, nuzzled against Krauser's groin, he knows it's desperate, but he can't help it. Tries not to think about Krauser dying, or Krauser coming back or Krauser trying to kill him. Instead, he tries desperately to hold on to those old memories. When Krauser was okay. When he was the only person he trusted.

Does he trust Krauser now? In some twisted way he still does. He knows Krauser won't lie to him. Not even now. Trusts him even though there's something new in him, something dirty and _broken_ , something dangerous. Not like when they shared a bed.

The new memories are worse than the old ones, in some ways. When Krauser died, when he _thought_ he died, that had been the worst moment. The worst. Days, weeks and months disappearing in the blankness of his head, but now... This new Krauser makes his throat ache and tighten in a new and horrible kind of way, something like a black hole opening in his chest.

But he can't look away.

He doesn't have to fight it for long, because Krauser has his hair in a vice, pulling him up until he's shakily standing again. Leon's head is all wrong, time moves wrong still, because he's against the wall again, and he can't even explain how he ended up there. He hears the slight metallic sound as Krauser unsheathes his knife, his body reacting immediately, closing his eyes as the familiar cool edge is pressed against his throat. He's afraid to breathe. Krauser doesn't allow any slip-ups, and he doesn't yield.

"I've missed your mouth" He breathes, pressing the knife harder against Leon's skin. Maybe he's just imagining it, but he can almost hear how it cuts through the top layers of skin. His eyes are still closed. He leans away from the blade, but Krauser follows his movements, not allowing him to ease the pressure of the knife. A few drops of hot blood trickles down the side of his neck, so warm against his cool skin that it makes him tremble.

Krauser presses his body against his, dominance, lust or pity, Leon doesn't care. All that matters is the heat from his body, the warmth as he licks Leon's neck, laps at the blood and murmuring something unintelligible against his skin, laying hot kisses along his jaw and cheek until their mouths find each other again.

It's still brutal, although lacking the desperate edge it initially had, but it's better this way, leaving them both breathless as they break the kiss.

"I want you."

Leon doesn't know which one of them says it, but it hangs in the air. Maybe they both said it. Or maybe none of them did, maybe they were both just thinking it. Either way it's there now, it's there and they can't ignore it.

Krauser pulls away further, inspecting Leon's face, and Leon wonders if he can see all the broken pieces. He wants to look away, but he can't. Trapped in those eyes. It's a deeper form of intimacy than having his dick in him. It makes him feel small again. Dirty. _Important._ Leon's lips curve slightly, trying to hold back a laugh, a sob, a scream. He doesn't know. What is this _thing_ in him? What the hell is wrong with him?

Another kiss, another breathless minute, another rush as he draws breath again, the rush of blood making him stagger a little. And Krauser laughs. His scarred lips parting as his grin grows big and he's fucking _laughing_. Leon feels sick. This is _sick_. This is all wrong.

Almost wrong enough for bile to rise in his throat, but not enough, not nearly enough, never enough. Krauser grabs him and pushes him to the floor. A new intensity, and Leon starts feeling genuine fear as Krauser straddles him, knife pressed hard against his throat. His neck at an awkward angle as he's trying his best to move away from that deadly blade.

Fingers in his mouth again, and he knows what that means, what Krauser intends to do, so he sucks on them again. No longer ashamed, just swirling his tongue around Krauser's fingers, making them nice and slick so Krauser can prepare him. He should be thankful for that.

His fingers disappears, and Leon almost licks the air for a second, so desperate for it. And then the fingers finds him, pressing against those intimate parts so firmly. He should be feeling dirty, but it's like that thing in him finally broke, because he can't feel a thing. Finally disconnected.

But just for a while, he knows this: it will mend, just so Krauser can break it all over again. He can feel it now, those jagged pieces, pieces of Krauser, and they fit together so perfectly, but at the same time so horribly wrong.

There's a sharp, horribly intimate pain as Krauser penetrates him harshly with two fingers, and Leon can hear that smirk in his voice again as he whispers crude things in the night, things Leon pretends not to hear. Another finger now, but Leon still feels like he's far away, even though his body is responding against his will, feverish heat spreading through him, that dull ache back, longing for something bigger, something...

_Krauser._

He tries not to jolt as Krauser fucks him slowly with his fingers, tries to crane his neck so Krauser won't cut him deeper than he already has, droplets of blood already mixing with the sand on the dirty floor below him.

"... are such a good little...."

Leon tunes out his words again, feeling the glass inside him shatter a little bit again, and he closes his eyes in frustration.

 _Make up your mind,_ he hisses to himself, _is it a thing or is it glass? A black hole? A fucking rabbit?_

_Does it even matter?_

Krauser moves his knife then, and Leon knows that it doesn't matter what it is, because Krauser is gonna make him whole again. Fill up that emptiness in him, and he laughs at that, laughs at how wrong and sick and fucking _funny_ that sounds. His laugh is all wrong too, desperate and scary, and he slams his mouth shut when that registers in his mind. Krauser doesn't even acknowledge it, just trails the knife lazily across his shoulder and down his back, leaving a thin pink line that leaks a little where his skin is stretched against bone. And it's just what he needs.

Krauser's fingers is replaced with something bigger, something impossibly hard, warm, soft, perfect, pushing through, relentlessly, through that tight band of muscle and Leon moans loudly, not even trying to hide how amazing that feels, how amazing _he_ feels.

And he's rewarded. Krauser slips a hand under him, hooks his arm around Leon's shoulder, forcing Leon up against his chest so that he can kiss him. Can it be called a kiss?

It's hungry and brutal and hard, a perfect match to those achingly firm and slow thrusts, so slow that Leon tries to grind against him, giving Krauser a reason to slap his ass hard and release his grip on him so Leon falls back down to the ground, managing to catch himself before his face hits the ground.

Krauser places a big hand above his ass, pushing him closer to the groud, forcing his ass in the air, so he can take it, take those long thrusts, those achingly painful and fantastic thrusts. Leon moans against the ground, doesn't even care about the grit his breath beats up from the ground, because this is exactly how it's supposed to be. Dirty and raw and desperate.

"Are you gonna be good?"

Krauser's voice is thick with arousal, gruff and gravelly, perfect, and Leon nods, his breath catching in his throat as he's trying to say yes, yes, he's gonna be good. He'll be anything Krauser wants him to be. Krauser knows. He chuckles, and strokes his hair, gently now, the other firmly pressed into Leon's hip. And then he is rewarded again, as Krauser's hand strokes his hair, his jaw, his lips, chuckling deeply as Leon tries to catch his fingers in his mouth, before slipping it down between his legs, to that aching, throbbing heat.

White.

The whole world goes white as Krauser grips his dick in that sweet old way, too hard, but just right.

Arousal so thick and so desperate that Leon almost feels queasy, his body on fire as Krauser pumps his fist, fucking him faster as he's jerking him off. Leon's arms tremble, it's hard to keep his weight off the floor, especially now that his knees are reduced to something soft and pliable, his spine replaced with hot, hot blood. He bites his own arm, draws blood without realizing as Krauser tilts his hips just right and hits that spot in Leon, that spot that renders him completely useless, moaning and shivering and God, so hungry for more.

And it starts building in him, that feeling only Krauser can evoke, it feels like his skull is gonna explode, because it's too much. Too much, like Krauser has exposed raw nerves and is plucking them like guitar strings. His breathing intensifies, catches in his throat again, moans even though his voice breaks and he's babbling now, his brain sending out confused signals he can't decipher, so he just lets it out, unaltered and uncensored.

"Krauser... Jack... Please, I--- I'm gon-- Fu-uck, I need... Give... Please sto--- Nnngh."

And Krauser stops. He lets go of Leon's aching dick, and stops moving in him. And it feels so bad. _So-so_ bad. And Krauser knows, Leon can hear him snicker as Leon desperately tries to grind against him, knocking Leon's hands away as he tries to grip his own dick so he can climax.

Time jumps again, and Leon is on his back now, Krauser towering over him, still not moving, but still in him. Leon can feel his dick twitch as Leon clenches around him. Legs wrapped around Krauser's hips as Krauser gets the knife again, pressing himself desperately against the bigger man, refusing to let go. And thankfully he isn't pulling away, instead gripping the knife so hard his knuckles go white. The metal is cold against Leon's feverish skin, and he trails it down to his dick, pressing it flat side down against the hot skin, making Leon gasp and groan.

"You like that?" Krauser taunts, that horrible twisted smile wide and scary, his eyes has that maniacal shine to them, the shine that always scared Leon, but even more so now, because Leon _knows_ , he knows that Krauser is _broken_ now, and there's no telling what he might do. Krauser rocks his hips slightly, and it's not enough, but it's all Krauser will give him right now, and Leon knows better than to protest.

That sweet pain as Krauser digs his nails into Leon's hips again, pulling him closer still, his ass pressed against Krauser's pelvis, moving the knife along the length of his dick, not cutting, but always that sickening wonderful threat of it, making Leon choke on his own breath. Letting it slide up against his stomach, twisting the blade every so often, making shallow little cuts in Leon's skin as the knife make its way up to Leon's mouth.

With skilled hands, he trails the outlines of Leon's lips. Not cutting, carefully, just that agonizing slow scrape against his skin, before hooking the dull end of the blade into the corner of Leon's mouth. Leon complies, opening his mouth wider, and Krauser's eyes flutter slightly, clouded with desire. He leans in closer, removes the knife just so he can press it against Leon's throat again and crush their lips together.

And finally, finally, he picks up pace, relentlessly hitting that spot over and over, and Leon sobs into his mouth, because that's all he knows how to do.

"I've missed your ass so much" Krauser whispers, so vulgar, so wrong, so broken and so _right._

"I've missed you----"

Leon was gonna say _I've missed your body, your dick, your voice, your knife,_ anything, but he cuts it short because that's the truth. He's missed Krauser. Missed all of him.

And he can tell it makes Krauser happy, for a fraction of a second there's that softness in his eyes again, just a flicker, but Leon sees it, he _sees_ it and it makes his head swim as he's fucked closer to that edge again. And then Krauser's fingers are closing around his throat, into a crushing grip, and Leon can't breathe. Panic makes him claw at Krauser's fingers, his eyes bulging, but his dick still hard as stone. Those cruel scarred lips curling at one side, grip as unrelenting and ruthless as those icy eyes, not even flinching as Leon breaks skin.

There's pain, but so much pleasure. His dick throbbing and leaking, aching for attention which Krauser does not give. He does allow Leon to jerk off, allow him to get close, watches his breathing carefully as he fucks him and knocks his hands off when he's too close for Krauser's liking.

Leaning forward, he licks Leon's lips, nips at them, eases the pressure on Leon's throat just enough for him to gasp and suck in air, as desperately as he does everything else, and then the grip is back around his throat. Black dots swirling in front of Leon's eyes, a pulsating red fog and Krauser's _laugh_ , his laugh echoing through his mind.

Every time he feels himself being pulled under, Krauser eases his grip on him, over and over, and it's torture. Sweet, horrible torture.

Each rush of air and blood enough to make the world spin and turn the pleasure from Krauser's dick in him to something fleeting and surreal, pain and pleasure twirled together so tightly he can't even tell them apart anymore, just gasps and moans, grunts and pants, Krauser's face swimming in front of him, and his voice is in his ear again. Detached and connected.

"I want you to come for me, comrade. _Come for me_."

And it's that tone of voice, _that_ tone, and Leon's dick, no, his whole body responds to it, he can feel it build up in him, and it's too much, _too much_. He writhes and squirms under Krauser's harsh hands, getting fucked, defiled, humiliated, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore.

Krauser still has one hand on Leon's hip, the veins on his arms hard against his skin, the other still around Leon's neck. His stomach knots up, his whole body tensing as he's getting closer, his grip on Krauser's arms so hard his hands are shaking. Those sweet, painful contractions somewhere deep in him, and it's hard to keep his eyes on Krauser, they keep fluttering, keeps going out of focus, but whenever he closes them Krauser is right there pushing his chin up, forcing Leon to look at him.

For a second it's like everything is clear, pulses of what feels like electricity surges over his skin, and they look at each other, connected, Finally connected.

Krauser is smiling, a crooked and smug smile as Leon's lips part to let out a final drawn-out moan as he climaxes, shooting milky come over his belly in rhythmic spurts. Leon pushes his head back into the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks, gasping for air, jerking as the last spasms from his orgasm rides through him, chasing all of that pain away. It's good now. It's all good now. They are okay. Connected and together.

Krauser breaths are heavier, his thrusts more intense. He leans over Leon, kissing him, licking his lips, before pressing his forehead hard against Leon's, his eyes far away, but so very close. Lips parted, breath hot against Leon, his grunts deep and throaty now, and he comes, comes inside of Leon, clings to him for a second before shuddering and kissing him with a kind of sad desperation.

And then they are quiet, except that deep panting, heavy breathing and hearts beating so hard they can hear it in the night. Leon cups Krauser's face with trembling hands. He stares at his face, can't get enough of just looking at him, feeling him, drinking in every little detail. Kissing his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, his scar. Wishing he could mend him, just like he wishes Krauser could finally give in and piece Leon back together. So close to him, so vulnerable, together, but again so detached from each other. 

Leon wonders then, if things will ever change for them, but Krauser answers it for him.

His eyes have gone cold again, and he pulls away.

"Krauser..."

But Krauser is already getting ready to leave.

"...Krauser, _please_. Please stay."

His pleading has that hysterical edge to it, and Krauser _knows_ , knows how it kills him, but he's still going to leave him.

"Jack, please don't leave me like this," he whimpers and Krauser looks at him for the first time since getting up. Really looks at him, and he takes a few steps towards him. Hope burns in Leon's chest, frantic thoughts rush through him, _maybe this time it will be different_ , but the hope burns out as Krauser simply tosses Leon's clothes over him, shoots him a warning glance, and walks off without a word. His footsteps echoing for a little before Leon is left to that silence again, except it's all wrong and empty now, and he sobs, still pleading softly for Krauser to come back, quickly turning into something ugly and deranged, so he falls back down, tries to soak up that final bit of body heat left on the ground. Those final remnants of him.

Screaming now, screaming and cursing Krauser, cursing himself for being so unhinged and desperate. So fucking pathetic. So fucking _sick._ He screams himself hoarse, hits the ground until his knuckles and lungs burn, all that broken glass shattered around him, making it impossible to move, and he goes quiet, resigned. _Broken._

How long has he been here? Times stands still, moves forever, fast forward, backwards, forwards again. Time is all wrong here. He knows he should get out of there, but he's unable to move. Even when the night darkens around him and chills his bones. His clothes still tossed carelessly over him, a slight cover for the chill of the wind, better than nothing, but not good enough. Never good enough.

A part of him doesn't even care if anyone finds him like this.

Pale, naked and shivering, with his clothes tossed over him, not covering up the release still stuck to his skin. Would he care? He shrugs halfheartedly to himself, as he absent-minded draws shapes in the blood tinged sand. He knows it doesn't matter.

The _thing_ , the _black hole,_ the fucking _rabbit,_ but most of all the _glass,_ oh, the glass. It's all back now, newly formed and raw again, sharp and deadly, dangerous, laced with that sweet, sweet pain. Leon can almost see the tiny little cracks in it, and he tries to glue it all together, tries to fix it somehow.

He _knows_ Krauser, better than anyone else knows him, knows even broken Krauser, and he saw the little cracks in him too. Those little subtle cracks in his facade, that little smile, the way of looking at him, the quiet desperation in that final kiss. Leon takes all these little hopes and prayers and apply them like glue to the fractures. Not even crying anymore, his body empty, that and that broken record gritting in his head.

_I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay..._


End file.
